We’ve long been fans of the excellent blog All Plaidout, brainchild of natty Chicagoan Max Wastler. Charming and courteous with an old-school elegance, his style advice is as entertaining to read as his family anecdotes and tales of growing up in the Midwest.
An especially favored feature is his “Things My Mother Taught Me” series, which Max has agreed to bring to Rugby in honor of Mother’s Day this weekend. Enjoy his words below and his photo above, and don’t forget to call your moms on Sunday.
Since high school, my mother has worked off-and-on around clothing and housewares. She insists that fashion is not style. Style comes from within.
When we were little, she encouraged us to cultivate our style in our dress and life choices. Looking back at old photographs, it is clear in the way she dressed us. I was rarely without a collar.
When returning home, I still find myself stopping to examine my outfit as I walk from my childhood bedroom to her kitchen, keeping in mind the pending scrutiny. “You’ve always marched to the beat of your own drum,” she’ll remind me. “You’ve always been particular about your clothing.”
More than her contribution to my style, my mother showed me how to be a leader. She lost her mother when she was 11. It’s clear her mother’s untimely death largely contributed to her uncanny abilities to lead. With younger siblings, she was thrust into mature roles, assisting her father in tending to the needs of the house, and from all accounts she rose to the occasion. Since I can remember, she's been chair to boards of all stripes, leading the charge for causes that speak to her. For so long, her boys were those causes. No matter the fight, no one could stand in our corner like our mom. We will never be able to repay her.
I love you, mom. Happy Mother’s Day.